


What Are The Chances My Chances Are Good?

by Sp1kyCactUs



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Agender Pidge | Katie Holt, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Homeless, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Bisexual Lotor (Voltron), Fluff, Gay Keith (Voltron), Homelessness, M/M, No Smut, Voltron crew are side characters, but still angst, eventual Klance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-07
Updated: 2018-06-29
Packaged: 2019-05-19 11:53:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14873276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sp1kyCactUs/pseuds/Sp1kyCactUs
Summary: Now homeless and alone, Lance realizes it probably wasn't the best idea to try and come out to his parents. Especially on Christmas.Meh I'll update the summary later, but the only reason its rated teen is cause of swearing and mildly triggering subjects and mentioning of alcohol/drugs





	1. In which Lance signs his soul over to the devil

**Author's Note:**

> Yikes I've been procrastinating for so long to write this   
> But at least its here now so   
> Wooooo

Pidge was right.  
Surprisingly, Lance had come to this conclusion all on his own the past Saturday night as he was downing a tub of ice cream, sat in front of the tv. It was in that moment, the moment in which he was wasting away his life watching Glee, Lance agreed that he needed a life. All his time was dedicated to either essays, Glee, or spending time with his two best friends; Pidge and Hunk. And although that wasn’t bad, Lance couldn’t help but feel that he could be doing so much more. It was his first year in college, and even though Lance continuously put himself out there, nobody seemed to stick. I mean, who wanted to hang out with a nineteen-year-old freshman? He had applied (and was accepted) to Oregon State University the summer after he graduated high school— claiming he was “on the fast track to retirement.” All of the other students in his seminars always seemed to be so much older than him, and although he could keep up in his studies (and frankly, had the best grades in class), Lance would be lying if he said that he didn’t think it was intimidating, so that night he decided to call up Pidge and ask for advice. Lance knew Pidge had all of the bases covered when it came to a college social life. Even though they looked like a squished Sour Patch Kid that had yet to go through puberty, they still always managed to be at the epicenter of campus connections. Lance knew he was making the right choice when he dialed their number.  
The phone rang a grand total of five times before the “little gremlin” answered.  
“Alcoholics anonymous, how can I help you?”  
Pidge answered the phone like this every time Lance, or anyone else for that matter, called. Lance could recall when he first got their number in middle school, they had answered the phone pretending to be the local Baptist church’s confession line. He had almost hung up out of panic until he heard Pidge’s howl of laughter on the other end. After years of friendship, Lance had finally gotten used to it.  
“Pidge, seriously, I need some advice.”  
“Well sure, I mean, it’ll cost ya’ but I’m willing to give it a go.What’s up?” That was the thing, asking a favor from Pidge meant you had to pay something in return. Once, Lance had asked them to finish an essay on the theme and impact of the novel, ‘1984’ by George Orwell because he had fallen asleep halfway through the first chapter. Lance ended up handing over fifty bucks to Pidge so he wouldn’t actually have to finish reading the mistake of a book.  
“I need a social life.” A stifled giggle and a snicker was heard on the other side of the line before he got a response.  
“Lance, my buddy, my man— you have so much to learn.”  
It was decided that Lance would meet up at Pidge and Hunk’s dorm room which resided in the school’s most popular fraternity and party hot spot, Kappa Sigma, or informally; Kappa Sig. According to Pidge, they were going to conduct an “emergency meeting.” Lance didn’t like the sound of that. Pidge had been a member since the beginning of the year when they were personally invited by Kappa Sig’s president, Takashi Shirogane and the vice; Matt Holt. Lance had argued that since Matt was Pidge’s older brother they had a higher chance to score during rush month, but Pidge brushed it off, telling him initiation hadn’t been worth the trouble of convincing Matt to give them a good word. Lance had yet to sign up, mostly because he didn’t even know what a fraternity was, but rush month was coming to a close within the next week, so if he was going to do it, it was now or never.  
When Lance opened the door to Pidge’s room he was greeted with not one, but two devilish grins. And that could only mean one thing.  
“Uhhhh, I actually just remembered I need to—” Lance’s attempt at an escape was thwarted almost immediately as Hunk pulled Lance into the room and Pidge slammed the door shut, whipping around excitedly, the grin still wide on their face.  
“Should I uh—should I be concerned?” Lance’s tone was laced with worry.  
Pidge completely ignored Lance’s comment and placed their hands on his shoulders. “Hunk and I collectively, have found a way to allow you to take your first baby steps into having a social life.” They removed their hands from Lance’s shoulders, adjusted their glasses and continued, “And well, by baby steps I mean joining Kappa Sigma. Like, now.”  
Sirens were blaring in Lance’s mind, screaming things much like, ‘You will actually, physically die if you join Kappa Sigma.’, ‘Self Destructing Sequence Initiated.’, and ‘Holy Christ I think I just wet myself.’  
“Wait, like now, now?” Lance’s brain was still trying to process what Pidge had just said when Hunk responded.  
“Yes, like now, now! Rush month’s deadline is right around the corner and there are only so many applications available. I’m sure Pidge can put a word in for you though, so don’t be too worried about it.”  
“It’s too late, I’m worrying about it.” Lance thought of all the ways it was possible for him to flunk the interview. “I’m definitely worrying about it.”

Pidge and Hunk were able to wrestle Lance over to Matt and Shiro’s conjoined office in a matter of minutes. The door swung open as soon as Pidge knocked, almost as if the person on the other side was expecting them to be there… As soon as the door opened all the way, Lance was greeted with a bright smile that looked alarmingly similar to Pidge’s.  
“Hiya Pidge! What can I do for you?” Matt spurred enthusiastically.  
“I need a favor.”  
Before Matt could respond, Pidge shuffled in the room, dragging Lance behind them. The office was so neat and orderly, which only seemed to add to Lance’s jitters. Book shelves lined the walls to Lance’s left and right, and right behind the desk was a flag depicting Kappa Sigma’s logo. Pidge and Hunk didn’t seem to be fazed as they waltzed in and plopped on the chairs that were provided. Pidge snickered as Lance continued to stare in awe. His thoughts were interrupted by Matt’s voice.  
“Well, if it’s what I think it is, then I’d be happy to help! You owe me lunch though.” It seemed Pidge had developed their knack for bargaining from none other than their older brother. Lance wasn’t surprised.  
“We need you to approve Lance’s application for Kappa Sig.” As Pidge was talking, they pulled out some folded document papers from their jacket pocket and handed them to Matt. “Here are his papers, we just need you to sign them. Initiation is on Thursday right?”  
Lance was confused. He had never seen those papers before, so how could they be his? Unless…  
“Pidge! What the heck!” Pidge turned and gave Lance the most mischievous grin they could muster. “Matt I swear to all that is holy, I did not sign those papers. This—this gremlin somehow forged my signature, and—and I promise you I was no part of this plan—”  
“Oh but your signature is right here.” Matt turned the papers around and pointed to the signature that was supposed to be Lance’s. It was a poor rendition. He turned his attention to Pidge, straightening the papers and said (with a signature Gunderson grin), “I’ll see what I can do.”  
Lance’s mouth was agape as he stared at the trio of devils he used to call friends.  
“Hunk…?” There was no regret in Hunk’s eyes as he pulled a pen out of his shirt pocket and handed it to Matt.  
“Oh! Thanks Hunk! Just what I needed, now all we have to do is…” Matt began mumbling to himself as he reviewed Lance’s application papers, signing as he went. Lance had agreed with Pidge when they said he needed a social life but this, this was taking it too far.  
Matt looked up with a genuine smile this time as he handed Hunk the pen and passed the papers to Pidge, using his now empty hand to adjust his glasses, a habit Lance often saw Pidge repeat several times a day.  
“Welcome to Kappa Sig!”


	2. In which Lance wears no pants

The transition had been pretty smooth moving all Lance’s stuff from his old dorm to the new fraternity dorm, but initiation had been a hell on Earth, so Lance had erased the painful memory from his mind as soon as it was over. The experience was unholy to say the least, and it was safe to say his idea of fun was definitely not streaking through the park in broad daylight.  
It had been about a month or so since Lance settled in with his new roommate; Rolo. They had gone through initiation on the same day, so they were already best buds. You know how they say bonding over trauma is the best way to bond? Turns out they really did hit it off-almost too well. It was unsettling. Pidge had introduced them at first (there was no doubt they had pulled strings to get them in a room together), bugging Lance to no end that they were always trying to set him up with potential dates. The only thing that bugged him even more was that Pidge was always spot on in his tastes, and this time was no exception. The only way Lance felt like he could keep his pride as a man was doing things without help, and he had to admit that was a lesser percentage than it should be. Lance had decided he would take things into his own hands that night, which he again admits probably wasn’t a good idea, but he was going to do it nonetheless, and he was going to snag a date-without Pidge’s help. He wasn’t sure about how dateable the people that you meet at frat parties were, but he was at least going to try. It couldn’t hurt, could it?  
A nauseous feeling crossed Lance as he was getting ready. It was a feeling that made his gut twist and cramp, almost as if he were going to throw up, a feeling that only came with his one true fear: Social Interaction.  
“Crap crap crap crap crap crap-” Lance always fell into a state of panic when he got ready for any sort of outing. What was he going to wear? Should he put on makeup? Should he eat beforehand? Where the fuck was his skin cream? These were just a few of the questions racing through his mind as he rifled through his closet. Pidge had always thought that he had too many clothes, but as he stood helpless in the doorway of his walk-in, he realized he had absolutely nothing to wear. Going formal was out of the question, casual was a no-no, and there was nothing in his closet that really stood out, or made the “I’m a single pringle looking to mingle,” impression he was going for. He was so preoccupied with his hopeless wardrobe situation that he didn’t hear his new roommate come through the door.  
“Going out I assume?” The familiar voice startled Lance, causing him to whip his head around, a heavy shade of pink on his cheeks.  
“Oh hey Rolo, I uh- didn’t hear you come in.” Lance stuttered, “I can’t find anything to wear to this party tonight, and I really want to give off a good first impression. Got any tips?”  
Rolo chuckled. “First party since joining Kappa Sig I bet. Here, lemme help you out.” Rolo strolled into the closet letting out a low whistle at Lance’s collection. “This party that you’re going to, it’s the one Shiro’s hosting, right?” Rolo didn’t stop flipping through Lance’s clothes as he asked the question, his focus never seeming to drift off the t-shirts.  
“Yeah I think so. Does that change anything?” Lance was unsure what Rolo was getting at—why did it matter if Shiro was hosting it?  
Rolo turned and gave a lopsided grin offering a short snicker and a suspicious “maybe” as a reply. Lance was confused, but otherwise didn’t question it, and since Rolo showed no sign of stopping, Lance let his gaze wander to the clock.  
“Oh quiznak.” He had twenty minutes to get ready before he met Pidge outside. Lance became a blur of makeup, hair product, and various skin creams before he skidded to a stop in their room where Rolo was waiting with his outfit.  
“Hey Lance-” Rolo looked up from his phone and his eyes widened into little saucers. “Wow. I mean just-wow.” He chuckled, composing himself. If Lance was being honest, he was a little embarrassed by Rolo’s gawking. All he had really done was swipe some eyeliner on and style his hair, among a few other things. Did it really make that much of a difference? He tugged on his black night-shirt, suddenly very conscious of the holes that dotted the hem. “You really do clean up nicely, don’t you? Despite you being in those raggedy-ass pajamas. C’mere, let’s get you in some real clothes.” Lance’s throat was dry and he was too embarrassed to make an attempt at a decent comeback. Rolo thankfully didn’t poke any more fun and gathered up some items that were laying on his bed.  
“First of all—these pants are mine, so I expect them back by the end of the night, but trust me when I say you will look like a bomb-ass bitch when you try on what I’ve picked out for you. No backing out, okay?” Rolo’s face was alight with a lopsided grin (Lance always found the flaw somewhat charming), so he couldn’t object, even though his stomach was turning into a pit.  
“Ta-dah!” The outfit that Rolo was holding up was scandalous-to say the least. Lance had never even thought, let alone considered wearing something that… revealing.  
“Rolo, where are the pants?” Lance was sort of gesturing to the whole pile of clothes.  
“What are you talking about? They’re literally right here.”  
Lance picked up the shorts Rolo had laid out and gave him a look. “But like—what? I must admit my leggies are long and sexy but isn’t this a little-” Lance took an exaggerated breath and sighed. “Much?”  
Rolo pushed the rest of the clothes into Lance’s hands and guided him to the bathroom saying, “Just trust me.”  
Lance had never felt so flawless before this moment in practically ever. The high-waisted shorts Rolo had picked out for him complimented his long and slender frame perfectly, and Lance almost couldn’t believe that the cute hipster-esque boy in the mirror was him. Lance would have to consider buying more tumblr tees because he was killing it. Lance’s thoughts were interrupted by a low whistle, and his head whipped around, his face heated with a dark-tinted blush that crawled to his ears.  
“As much as I’d love for you to stay here and chat, you need to bounce. You said you were meeting Pidge out back at 9:00?” Rolo was casually leaning on the doorframe of the bathroom, not at all trying to hide the fact that he was checking Lance out. Lance of course, being the dense little nugget that he is, didn’t notice and proceeded to check the time.  
“Holy quiznak. I’m gonna be late!” Lance practically tripped over himself to get to the door. “Bye Rolo! Thanks for all your help!” Lance turned and waved goodbye to Rolo with a cheeky grin that was full of excitement.

 

“Oh God. Pidge, I don’t know if I can do this.” His usually chipper grin was now gone, almost as if it never existed in the first place. “I blame you if I get my first wrinkle in my twenties! This night has enough stress bundled in it to last me until I’m eighty!” Lance’s hands were fidgeting non stop—a habit that came up whenever he was anxious. But tonight, his nerves were through the roof. It wasn’t the social interaction that had him spooked (although he would be lying if he said he wasn’t at least a little shaken by the thought of it), it was mostly the idea that he was going to a real life party. A party with girls and boys, and booze and the possibility of drugs. He didn’t know what to expect and the thought had his stomach churning, and the world around him shrinking into darkness. His breath stilled and the only thing he could hear was a faint echo of the clanking of the van and a far-off voice. The quiet was almost serene, and Lance couldn’t remember the last time he had felt so relaxed. Yet suddenly his hearing came crashing back like a wave and Pidge was the first thing he saw when he really focused on the blobs of color in front of him.  
“Is he good back there? Should I be worried? Do I need to pull over? Too late, it’s happening, I’m pulling over!” Hunk’s worried voice echoed to the backseat, heard even over the classic rock that Lance hadn’t realized was playing. Lance would have to ask Hunk for the CD later; this was a good song.  
“Hunk, no, he’s fine! He’s just got the jitters I think. He’ll be back to normal in no time.” Hunk gave a relieved sigh in response and Lance could feel the van lurch forward again, thunking along the road. Pidge returned her attention to Lance, offering him a grin.  
“You good buddy? We’ll be there soon and I don’t want you to feel pressured.” Lance gave a firm nod, and began preparing himself. He figured it was about time that he crawled out of his comfort zone. Who knows? Maybe it would be worth the effort.  
Lance leaned out the window to feel the breeze on his cheeks; the night air felt icy against his smooth skin. A heavy bass found its way to and through the car to Lance’s ears, muddling with the song that was playing, turning the bass line sour. Lance figured the sound had to be coming from their destination. His heart was thumping as heavy as the thumping bass, and his blood was thick with adrenaline. He turned to Pidge and offered a cheshire grin.  
“Pidge, I think I’m so scared I’m excited.” Lance was bouncing in his seat like a three-year-old, all signs that he just experienced an minisode: gone. That was one of the many things Lance appreciated about his personality. He was always able to bounce back almost immediately after a rut. Lance didn’t really understand how it worked, but he knew that he didn’t like the way anger or anxiety made him feel, so he just decided to be happy instead. Sometime Pidge called Lance ‘The One Exception’ because Lance never seemed to abide by the laws of physics. Lance hadn’t understood anything that Pidge had been saying, but he laughed anyway, just because Pidge thought it was funny.  
“That’s how you know it’s gonna be great!” Pidge fist pumped the top of the van, making the tin shudder. Lance hollered at the top of his lungs, letting out his excitement, and Hunk’s laughter could be heard from the front seat followed by, ‘Don’t punch the roof out!’  
As Lance returned his attention to the road, he spotted the source of the booming music. The van rolled to a stop in front of a large suburban house—a house Lance wouldn’t peg for the location of a college party. The bass reverberated in his stomach, causing his butterflies to buzz and hum against his rib cage. It was an unholy yet addictive combination.  
“Alright kiddos, behave yourselves. I’ll be at Shay’s if you need me. Just call, ‘kay?” Hunk was a ball of nerves, as usual, but instead of rubbing off on him, Hunk’s jitters only seemed to make Lance laugh.  
Lance swung open the door and hopped out yelling, “I can’t promise anything!” Now on the ground, Lance could feel the pumping of the bass through his shoes as it traveled up his spine to rest in his lungs. The tightness that it caused set his gut on fire with a familiar yet unfamiliar tingle that wasn’t necessarily unpleasant, but then again wasn’t exactly pleasant either.  
“What are you just standing around for?” Pidge had stopped a ways up the sidewalk to turn and call for Lance.“It’s time to get lit!” Pidge laughed at their own joke. Was that even allowed? Lance bounded up the sidewalk to fall into step with them, not yet ready to brave tonight’s dangers alone. As they neared the front of the house, Lance could vaguely see through the open door at the hazy crowd of people. At least it didn’t smell like weed, but there were a number of red solo cups hidden in the crowd, making Lance cringe. Alcohol had never been something Lance was interested in. His uncle had fallen into an addiction during Lance’s childhood years, and it was hard to erase the memory of late nights of him coming over and disturbing the house with his drunken yelling. Of course Lance loved his uncle to death, but he vowed that he would never end up like him. Being broken and lost at the expense of a night of ecstasy wasn’t a very pleasing proposition. Nevertheless, Lance strode up the sidewalk to the front of the house and peered in through the door, standing behind Pidge.  
“Woah, hey, looks like we’ve got another six-footer over here.” Another? Lance jumped at the voice, but Pidge didn’t seem fazed. Lance looked down to see a short girl with a messy pixie cut and boxy glasses. She was extremely intimidating for her size, which almost reminded Lance of Pidge. “Anyways, welcome, blah blah blah, let’s skip the pleasantries. I’m supposed to ask you if you have drugs and whatnot, you know protocol, but that’s boring and lame-what’s up my dude?” The girl and Pidge did a complicated handshake before they continued. “This’s the one you’ve been talking about, right? It’s his first time at one of these, idn’t it?” The girl seemed to be gesturing to Lance.  
“Yep! I’m sort of showing him the ropes. Lance, meet Olia. She’s good friends with my brother Matt.” Pidge stepped out of the way so Lance could say hello. He hadn’t noticed before, but both of her arms were covered almost completely in yellow glow sticks.  
“Hey Olia, I’m Lance.” He grinned happily, glad that the first interaction of the night seemed to be quick and painless.  
“Well, as much as I’d love to totally ditch my duty, I need to man the door—Shiro’s orders.” She turned and picked up a box that was sitting lazily on the floor and turned back to Lance. “So the theme this time around is basically a ‘single mingle,’ but obviously you don’t have to be single to attend. These are the glow stick bracelets I’m supposed to hand out.” This must’ve been what Rolo was being so mysterious about. Lance went to grab a red stick, but the box was swiped away by Olia. “Slow down tiger.” She chuckled, “They’re color-coded. This time it’s blue for bisexual, green for gay, yellow for asexual, or honestly just not interested—either one, pink for straight, and red for taken. Ya know, I tried to make them all sound cool like ‘green for gay’, but there aren’t really any colors to match up with the other orientations. Lame! Anyways, pick a color, I don’t have all day. Or night, rather.” Olia inwardly sighed, seeming more exasperated at herself than anything. “Just shut up and take a bracelet.” Even though Lance wasn’t talking, he obeyed anyway and dove straight for the blue bracelet. If he was being honest, the prospect of wearing a blue bracelet, in public, with everyone knowing the meaning, sounded overwhelmingly crazy—but if Lance was going to finally put himself out there and not make a waste of the effort of coming here, he needed to put on the gosh darned bracelet. Pidge grabbed a yellow bracelet and gave Olia a quick goodbye, pulling Lance into the house before he could finish his mental pep-talk.  
The music, against Lance’s first impression, was admittedly the same volume on the inside as on the outside. Somehow Lance had thought that stepping through the door would be like stepping into a new world or another part of his life-but really it just felt the same. It was exciting—the idea of having a new opportunity show itself like this. Lance’s elation bubbled in his throat until he couldn’t keep it in any longer. The blue bracelet on his hand felt heavy, like everyone was staring, but Lance took it all in stride. He didn’t know what he was feeling as he walked through the crowd, but he knew that he liked it.  
“Pidge, I owe you big time.” His mouth was agape, and his eyes were alight as he took in the scene around him.  
“Oh, yes. I am aware. We’ll speak of our terms after the party. Come on, let’s go get a drink.” Pidge grabbed Lance’s hand and began dragging him through the sea of dancing people to the kitchen (or at least where Lance assumed was the kitchen). Somewhere along the way, Lance’s hand slipped and he tripped over his own two feet, falling into a person who was not Pidge, oh god where was Pidge—and oh lordy who was holding his shoulders?! Strong arms kept Lance from falling to the floor and making a complete fool of himself, even though he felt like it was already happening. Lance looked up slowly, scared yet excited to make eye contact with the stranger.  
His eyes were the deepest purple Lance had ever seen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> don't flip your lid next chapter y'all


	3. In which Lance meets a Mister

“I-I’m sorry!” Lance stammered, his voice shaky, barely heard over the music. “I uh- didn’t-um, I-sorry!” Unknowingly, Lances hands were still latched to the stranger’s arms, his eyes not daring to make contact. Lance finally noticed this and retracted them as quick as if the man’s arms were covered in hot coals. Lance thought he heard a low chuckle, (he couldn’t be sure because of the music), and looked up. The man’s (Lance couldn’t bring himself to call him a boy) face was practically chiseled from stone. His jawline swooped low and sharp, and his mouth was fixed in a perfect smile. His eyes were deep, swirling pools of purple that Lance lost himself in, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to find his way back out. They were mesmerizing. He was.  
“It’s perfectly fine. I’m sure you didn’t mean it.” The man’s voice dripped like honey—thick and sweet. Lance was practically stumbling over himself to find a response, but all his brain could focus on was how silky the dude’s hair was. Despite it it being tied in a bun, Lance could practically feel how soft it would be if he ran his hands through it, just by looking. He was dying to see if his theory proved true, and thankfully, the man didn’t wait for Lance to respond before he practically made Lance’s jaw drop straight off the face of the Earth. He had picked up Lance’s hand from fiddling with his shirt hem (a habit he had when he was nervous), and spun the glowing blue bracelet that was secured on Lance’s wrist around, and around, and around. The brilliant blue glow of the bracelet bounced off the man’s face as he brought Lance’s hand up to his lips, and kissed it. Lance’s blood bubbled and travelled up to his face, springing up as a deep-tinted blush that spread to his ears. “Blue, eh? Suits you.” Did he know what the bracelet meant? Maybe he was just being nice. Lance’s mind was running at top speeds, and at this point he didn’t even know what he was thinking anymore. It certainly didn’t have anything to do with the fact that the man still hadn’t let go of his hand. Of course not. “It matches mine pretty well-don’t you think?” The man brought his hand up, and to Lance’s utter astonishment, lo-and-behold, there was a thin, glowing bracelet encircled around the man’s wrist. Blue. The soft glow the bracelet emitted reflected like diamonds in Lance’s eyes.  
“Yeah, um, I guess so.” Lance gave a bell-like laugh and a blushy grin, and the whole world seemed to melt around him all at once.  
“Whatdya’ say we move this over to the kitchen? It seems a bit quieter over there.” Lance nodded-it did seem as though the density of the party was focused in the living room. Moving to the kitchen would definitely make it easier to hear each other over the booming music, so he followed the man’s lead to the kitchen.  
As they ventured through the sea of dancing bodies to get towards the kitchen, the music slowly slipped away until it became dull thumping resounding through the walls. Without the distraction of the bass, Lance could now feel the rhythm of his heart thumping along to its own beat. It made his stomach feel all funny, and Lance couldn’t decide whether or not he liked the way it made his hands tingle. The man finally unclasped his hand from his, and Lance felt the loss immediately. Maybe it was just him, but the kitchen was a lot colder than the living room. Looking past the spilled booze, scattered red solo cups, and oh god was that vomit?- the kitchen was actually pretty nice. The burny, itchy smell of the alcohol was much stronger in here, and Lance found his gut clenching. Admiring the fixtures and appliances, and the man’s long, broad frame as he leaned into the cupboards to grab something (almost as if he was already acquainted with where everything was located), Lance placed his head in his hands and leaned on the smooth marble countertops.  
“So what’ll it be?” The man had placed two clear glasses on the counter in front of Lance, and turned to open the fridge. “Our gracious host has provided us with-” he took a pause as he sifted through the fridge’s contents. “Some Miller Lite-God, do I hate that stuff, water, some shit called ‘kerns’, whatever that is. Aaaaand Hawaiian Punch.” He turned back to Lance, giving him an expectant look.  
The Miller Lite was a definite no, even if Beyoncé herself offered it to him; water was probably the lamest thing to ever drink at a party; Hawaiian Punch was literally the best thing ever invented-but Lance didn’t want to look like a kid, so kerns it was.  
“I’ll just take the kerns if you don’t mind.” The man picked up a can of it and swiped a water for himself before bringing them over to the counter where Lance was standing.  
“So, apparently it’s supposed to be peach juice? Looks kinda sketchy to me, but hey, if it’s your cup of tea.” He began pouring the drinks into the glasses when Lance asked him a question.  
“Have you been here before? You seem to know where all the, well, everything is.” Lance sipped the juice, and to his surprise, it was actually really good. Really, really good in fact. He’d have to ask his mom to buy some for him when he visited home. The man plopped his elbows down on the counter across from Lance and set his face in his hands to mimic him.  
“Well, you know the host, Shiro? You see, we’re like this-” He crossed his fingers and continued, “and, this is his parent’s place, and i live right around the corner. We’ve been pretty close since we were kids, so even though I go to WU, I’m still invited. Unofficially invited, but still invited. I haven’t seen him around yet, have you?”  
Lance shrugged and responded, “I can’t say I actually know him. Never seen him anyway—he’s a busy man i guess. I’ve only ever been introduced to Matt, ya know, Pidge’s brother? They’re dating, right?” Lance took a sip from his juice and said, “Well, Matt and Shiro that is.”  
“Yep! They’ve been dating since junior year in high school I believe. They’re seniors now, which is insane, don’t you think? I mean, I’m a senior and I haven’t had a partner for longer than what, a year, tops?” The man seemed exasperated, almost frustrated.  
“I can’t say I’ve ever had a serious relationship either. I mean, I’m only a freshman, and-” Lance was cut off by the man.  
“A freshman?! What? I thought you were at least a sophomore, but a freshman?!” He gave a tense sigh and said, “I mean, damn, for that body you’d think I would have pinned you right, but-I mean, just wow. Dang.”  
Lance was speechless. He sipped his kerns to try and hide the blush that was taking over his cheeks, but the tips of his ears gave him away.  
“Not to make you uncomfortable or anything—but I’d really like it if we could maybe ditch?” The man’s cheeks seemed to reflect the same shade that was on Lance’s, as he said, “Cause you’re really, really beautiful and you seem like a super cool dude, and-you don’t have to say yes! I was just wondering, and yeah. I thought it would be nice to get to know you, maybe.” No one had ever called Lance beautiful before, not even his mother. Of course he had gotten the occasional, “Oh look at you! Such a handsome man,” or the not-so-very-occasional, “You’ll make a fine man when you get older.” It made him feel special.  
Lance, giving his signature cheeky grin, softly replied, “I would love to.”  
“Great!” The man fished some keys out of his pocket and twirled them around his finger. “The name’s Lotor.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for late update. I meant for the chapter to be longer but I figured it would be better to update it sooner and shorter rather than SUPER late but longer.


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